


Family Don't End In Blood

by the_trixster_and_the_fallen



Series: Family Don't End In Blood [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Angels, Cute, Cutesy, Domestic Fluff, Fallen Angels, Fluff, Fluffy, M/M, Nephilim, Short, Short & Sweet, Sweet, Wings, preening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 18:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17668211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_trixster_and_the_fallen/pseuds/the_trixster_and_the_fallen
Summary: Short stories of the daily life in the Men of Letters bunker.Chapter 1: Cas teaches Jack the importance of grooming his wings.





	Family Don't End In Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the "Family Don't End In Blood" Bingo Card you can find on my tumblr @sweetteamultifandom

The morning started like any other; Sam had dipped out early for a run, Dean was sleeping like a bear and Jack was curled in the living room. I had dragged myself from my room, the morning heat settling around my shoulders like a heavy blanket. With tired steps and low groans; I pour a fresh cup of coffee and flops down onto the closest, worn dining chair. I let out a low sigh, curling my hand around the handle.

“Hey, what’s wrong with squirt?” The chirpy tone interrupts the morning quiet. I look up from my coffee cup; squinting up at a very alert Gabriel. He looks like he just got in; a loose tie around his neck and a messy mop of hair. 

“Who?” I drawl out, my fingers gently tap along the cracked porcelain as I lean a little closer to inhale the furls of steam that the dark roast offers. 

“Short. Blonde. Calls you dad.” He jerks his thumb towards the doorway.

“I haven’t-...” I murmur when I hear a loud _crash_ come from the living room. I jump up, wrapping my robe a little tighter as I hurry to the sitting area; Gabe close behind, followed by a dazed Dean, sleepily glaring; “Dude. What the hell is going on?” He hisses out as I peer around the corner.

I was greeted with the sight of Jack; bare chested and uncharacteristically angry. His nose is crinkles up, eyebrows furrowed as he stomps over to a conjoining doorway. He wiggles his spine up against the edge of the door, rubbing it up and down like he is trying to curb an itch. I knew that look all too well; looking over at Gabe for guidance, he simply throws his hands up; “nu-uh, this is your job. Night amigos.” He vanishes off down the hall. Dean seems a little more lost than when he first appeared.

“What’s he doing?” His voice is low, carding his fingers through his mess of hair as he leans a little closer; the heavy smell of sleep and sweat alluding his natural scent, something I was very hyper aware of. He peers around the doorway, watching the younger male with a frown.    

“It’s...complicated.” I murmur, shuffling away a little. 

“Then make it easy.” I shoot him a pointed glare as I try to think of the easiest way to explain it.

“Angel wings are delicate. Much like a bird. If he hasn’t been preening properly; they would get very painful for him. I didn’t realize, I would have helped him sooner if I knew.” I answer truthfully.

He purses his lips in thought; eyes creasing a little in the corner as he claps my shoulder; “You’re up, _dad.”_ He grins, face relaxing as he disappears back towards his bedroom without a second thought.

With the feeling of guilt twisting in my stomach, I move into the living room with careful steps. 

“Hey, Jack?” I speak softly, receiving a glowering glare from the Nephilim boy. He seems annoyed and rightfully so.

“What?” He growls, unusually angry for a typically bright boy who would be curled up with sugary cereals and cartoons at this time of the morning. 

“Have...” I trail off, trying to think of how to tactfully put this as he continues glaring, “Have you been cleaning your wings regularly?” I ask and he snaps back; “I wash them in the shower.” Is his immediate response, my heart sinking.

He is my responsibility and I had failed him in such a simple manner. Preening should have been something I taught him on the very first day but as it had become religiously part of my schedule, it didn’t even cross my mind that he may not know how to do it correctly. 

“May I see your wings?” I ask, keeping my voice low as his face stubbornly scrunches up. With a low exhale, he closes his eyes momentarily before responding; “Fine.” He grumbles.

I take a few steps back, allowing him space as his white wings flicker into my plane of vision. At a first glance, they really are beautiful; the glow of an archangel. Illuminated, smooth and honestly breathtaking; but I could see why he was in so much pain. Some feathers were unevenly clumped, a few bald patches forming where there should be new ones growing. His wings were easily around 13 feet in size and while I could do my best; it would take me a while. 

“Jack, I’m going to teach you something that I learnt as a fledgling.” My voice is soft, kneeling behind the bare-chested boy as I start at the base of his feathers. I brush my fingers gently over the outside of his wings. He flinches at first, wings twitching habitually but I smooth them softly, combing through and gently pulling away loose feathers and slowly making a pile on the ground. He lets out a few low hisses, this obviously being a little painful for his first time; “Preening is an important part of our routine as angels. I try to do mine at least once a week.” I move to the other wing, my fingers gently carding through his secondary feathers, “It keeps them healthy and intact. It makes it easier to fly as well.” 

I gently brush my fingertips over the base of his wings where a generous amount of oil had been produced by his glands. Collecting some of the oil, I slide my hands over his array of pretty white feathers to help groom them into place. He ruffles them a little; relaxing under my touch. I could feel the tension fading away, his shoulders melting under the gentle grooming. 

“All you have to do, is gently brush through your feathers and discard of the ones that are falling out.” I nod, standing up to move further out to his primary feathers; “And gently spread the oil from the base of your wings to help keep them strong.” I murmur, “It will also help you attract a mate one day.” I add, a small smile on my lips as I watch him visibly relax, obviously feeling a load better already; “A mate?” He asks and I nod with a gentle hum.

“And then She, or He, can help you preen. It’s a very common courtship ritual; it’s called Allopreening.” I recall from what I was told at a young age. His honey colored eyes look up at me innocently. 

“Does anyone help you preen?” He asks, the question not at all out of line but it made my heart clench a little nonetheless.

“No. But I got used to doing it myself a long time ago.” I feign a tight smile, masking the disappointment at the fact there was a low chance I would ever have someone do this for me. 

“Perhaps Dean could help you.” He suggests and I feel my heart erratically trip over itself as my brows furrow together. 

“It’s fine, really. Your uncle Gabriel and I have been doing this ourselves for a long time.” 

“I see. Well, I'm sure one day we will all have someone to do this for us.” His smile widens, eyes creasing up in the corner; “Thank you for helping me.” 

“Anytime, Jack.” 


End file.
